Corpstale

S1/E2: Black ink

Inks POV:
I felt my head hit the ground with a loud THUNK! And then my vision went black. After what must have been nothing more than just a few short minutes, I woke up again. My eyes fluttered open as I rubbed my skull achingly. My head really hurt. "I hope I didn't crack anything... where am I." Finally coming to, I look around to see the building around me old and warn. Definitely not the tidy neat school I was just in. Everything looked wooden and old. Thinking on my feet I quickly reached for my cell phone, dialing the rest of my friends. The phone rang.... and rang.... and finally someone picked up. "HELLO!? BLUE? CLASSIC?" But all I heard on the other side was static. But as I listened closer, I could hear the faint sound of someone breathing. "H... hello? Is.... is someone there?" I waited a few short minutes with no reply. I figured it was just my nerves playing tricks on my. But as I was about to turn off the phone.... someone spoke. And a chill shivered up my spine.
(I SeE yoU) [click]
And then they hung up. The voice was deep and distorted. "What the heck is going on around here!" I began to panic, looking around desperately for an exit. Noticing a sign just above a door with an arrow only seconds later.
[EXIT ->]
Sigh. Good. At least I found a way out. Maybe if I can get outside, I can figure out where I am.

I started to walk Down the halls, following the occasional exit sign that would appear above me, and finally stopping at a room. Above it was a large exit sign that glowed a bright red neon. The door below it was one of those old fashioned sliding wood doors. I approached it slowly and grabbed the handle, giving it a tight tug to the side. But it didn't budge. I grabbed the handle with both of my hands and pulled at it again and again. But the door seemed stubborn and only inched a little, dirt and dust spewing from its unused crevices. Undeterred, I put my foot at the side of its frame and used all my strength to try to pull the door open. I continued as I saw the door slowly start to open, but all of a sudden the whole thing slid agape and I fell inside. Crashing onto the paper covered wood floor below. As I got up, I heard the slam of a door behind me. (BANG) and then a lock. I turned around and began to bang desperately at the now closed wood frame. "HEY! LET ME OUT!" But after a few short, exhausting minutes of trying to get the door to open again, I slid onto the floor in frustration. It wasn't budging at all. It was locked. And surprisingly... sturdy. I took a deep breath as I looked around.

My non existent ears began to perk up around the sounds of scribbling. Like the sound of an artist in the zone of creating his newest masterpiece. Finally taking in the sights around me I stood up, a few stray leaflets of paper floating around me haphazardly as I lifted off the ground. I was surrounded by easels with blank paintings framed on them... except for one. On the far corner of the small art room, I saw the back of a stand. A painting on it. And someone working on it from the other side. My heart dropped and I backed up as I realized the figure had a shadowy outline, and glitches coating his body. Although, he didn't seem the least bit interested in my presence. Good. Let's keep it that way. I began to back up to the door slowly when I felt my back bump into something. It was an easel that was slowly tipping down, but before I could do anything to catch it... (SLASH) blue strings shot around me and wrapped themselves around the art and stand, gently bringing it upwards as if they where hands handling the art itself. I followed the trail of the mysterious twines as it led back to the artist who had one hand stretched out from his line of sight. The strings wrapped diligently around his fingers as he continued to scribble with his other hand.

"I. Um. Sorry. Please excuse me."
After placing the art stand and it's blank Canvas back into position, the strings retreated back onto his hand and he seemingly continued to work as if nothing had happened.
"..."
he seemed transfixed by whatever he was working on, and finally, curiosity got the better of me. I began to approach him slowly, taking the long way around as to walk up behind him. And what I saw... was unsettling. In his hand he carried a thin blank brush, and he was scribbling on a blank canvas. It was.... I was... speechless.
"Do YoU LiKe It?"
"Uh.... um...."
"I'm AlMoSt FiNiShEd WiTh It. JuSt A FeW MoRe TOuChES."